Solona 12 - Fort Drakon
by RoboticHawk
Summary: Alistair and Solona, the two last remaining Wardens in Ferelden are captured by Loghain thanks to the betrayal by his daughter, Anora. They are tortured and raped continuously, until their companions come to rescue them, but they do not arrive until it is too late. ANGST. TORTURE. TRIGGER WARNING! RAPE. Object Insertion. Mind Break. Etc.
1. Captured

_Throb_

Solona groaned, attempting to bring her hand up to her head to rub it. It was pounding mercilessly, a steady drumming beat that nagged at her. But her hands refused to budge.

"Urgh, what…" She cracked her eyes open, squinting against the wavering amber light.

"Oh, you're awake! I was starting to worry." His voice sounded above her, and she looked up to see Alistair's frowning face hanging over her.

"I'm going to strangle Anora when I get out!" She hissed through her teeth.

"Do you mind if I pin her down while you do? Or perhaps kick her?" Alistair replied dryly, drawing a one small tight laugh from her, which only worsened the ache. As if feeling the pain himself, he leaned down and pressed of soft kiss on her hair. Despite it all, it made her feel better as always.

"Let me up," she mumbled. Solona gasped as she sat up from Alistair's lap, the dull ache behind her head growing sharp with the motion. Her shackled hands clanged, adding to the headache. After she adjusted to the new position, Solona looked around the dim room.

She could see the solid bars of metal which surrounded them both in the dim candle lights, while the icy stone floor and rotten straws completed the set. She looked up to see the bars reach all the way up to the highly arched ceiling.

"I've never seen a prison from this side before, though I got close a few times in the Circle. Very scenic."

"Hah, 'join the Grey Wardens! See the sights from the floors of the best prisons in the land!' It's not much of a recruitment slogan, is it?" He chuckled, allowing her to lean against him to steady herself.

"What happened, Alistair?"

"Well, you told the others to keep Anora alive, so they raced out to lead her away while we bought them time. But then she knocked you out flat with a club as she went and they overwhelmed me."

"I wonder if Zevran's slit her throat yet."

"You _did_ tell them to keep her alive before she betrayed us. Who knows, maybe that did the trick?"

Solona groaned as a fresh wave of nausea washed over her. She bent over, breathing through the pain to focus her thoughts.

"Alistair, we are the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden right now. And we both got caught by Loghain."

The last of the thin humor was wiped away from his lips. He didn't say anything, but his grim eyes did. Alistair's hardened eyes spoke of everything she needed to know. It was the one scenario they'd feared for the entire year since Ostagar. Both of them… _indisposed,_ with no other Grey Wardens left to oppose the Blight in Ferelden.

"We need to escape." She rasped out, trying to keep her stomach down.

"I know. But how?"

She looked around again, scanning for anything they could possibly use for their advantage. They were both stripped down to their smalls, not to mention her hands were firmly trapped inside rusty shackles, preventing her from casting any spells. She silently cursed herself for not learning the trick of dislocating her thumbs to escape from Zevran earlier. She shivered as the chill from the rough stone floor climbed her limbs.

"They've kept us alive. Why?"

Alistair drew her back into his embrace, rubbing her arms to help her warm up. "I don't know… I thought they were going to execute us right away, but they just stuffed us in here and disappeared."

"Alistair, I know that look. What?"

"Ah, just about had you, didn't I?"

"Alistair!" Solona smacked his arm, or as much as she could with shackled hands, and he finally sighed.

"I… I think that they might want a confession from us. A confession that the Grey Wardens really did plan to commit treason at Ostagar."

"What?!"

"That way, Loghain would be able to clear his name officially. There were some nobles doubting his claims about what happened at Ostagar, which is what the civil war boils down to. But if we were to openly admit that we really did commit treason, well, the civil war would end at that point and leave him free to focus on Orlais."

Solona clenched her teeth, waiting for him to continue.

"Of course, we wouldn't admit to treason even if they were to give us the best cheese in all of Thedas…"

"So they will torture us." She finished for him.

"Well, I could be completely wrong you know. What do I know about what goes in that Loghain's head of his? For all we know they might have shucked us in here until they could finish the right paperwork to let us leave…"

He trailed off, unable to keep his voice light.

"…all right, we need to get out of here. Can you…?"

"I don't know. They tied my hands, but theoretically I could expel my mana all at once and blast out of here. But that would be literally me forcing magic out of my body, not any actual casting. I won't be able to control the explosion – and you'd get caught in the explosion as well. Of course I also feel like I have concussion thanks to Anora, so I don't think I'll be able to exert any delicate control over my magic…"

"Well, I could try to Cleanse, Spell Purge, or Annulment the area around me to shield myself…"

Then they both heard it. A heavy door thumping open somewhere nearby and multiple heavy footsteps growing louder, and Solona whispered.

"Alistair, you're twice my weight and there's no way we can escape from here with me dragging you. At least you'll be able to carry me. I'll draw the attention, so keep yourself safe!"

"But-"

"Hello there, little Linny."

Solona froze, a voice far too familiar chuckling as it neared them. She daren't look up, refusing to confirm with her eyes what she already knew. Soon she heard the squeak of a key turning in a rusty lock, and the heavy footsteps clanged to a stop next to her.

"Well, don't just sit there Linny. Stand up and greet me properly. Been too long, eh?"

A rough hand snatched her chin and pulled her up to her feet, forcing her to look into the familiar green eyes glittering with malice.

"Benin," She spat.

His response was as swift as it was sure. Her cheek exploded as he struck her, and Solona nearly buckled under the force were it not for the iron grip he had on her face.

"That'd be Knight-Corporal Benin, Linny." He smiled.

Solona blinked through the stars, thanking the Maker that Alistair was shocked into silence. It would be simple enough task to keep them all focused on her if Benin was here.

"Did you run from the Circle, Benin? Always knew you were a coward. A deserter." She panted, spitting out a glob of blood at his face. He struck her again, the force of the blow throwing her to the ground as he released her chin. She fell hard, her head banging against the floor. Her shackled hands did nothing to soften the fall and Solona laid there, dazed.

"I volunteered to come to Denerim to invoke the Right of Annulment, Linny." He crouched low, his gravelly voice booming past the buzzing in her ears. "But I hear there's no need for that now thanks to you, Linny. Saved the Circle, did you? Good girl."

Cool metal touched her messy hair then, the pressure suggesting that he was patting her.

"Now I'm to wait for further instructions here while they clean up the mess you Mages made. But it's not all bad I suppose. I got to see _you_ , Linny. Without Irving, or Cullen, or even Knight-Commander Greagoir hovering by. What's more, I am _ordered_ to… play… with you by the Teyrn Loghain himself."

She smiled the best she could, shaking the mess of hair and blood out of her mouth.

"Ah Benin. And yet you still can't muster up the courage to face me on even grounds. How will you ever live through the shame after this?"

Benin kicked her in the stomach with his metal sabaton, driving the wind from her lungs. She coughed and gagged. curling into a ball despite herself. But she couldn't stay like that for long as he dragged her up by the hair to his eye level once more. She bit down on her lips, refusing to scream in pain.

"I'll make you regret ever setting a foot outside the Circle, whore. You were to be mine, Linny. Before that runt came along, you were to be my little Mage. I'll teach you what happens when you try to run from me, Linny. Boys, string her up."

Gloved hands tightened on her bare arms, dragging her out of the cell. Solona had just a moment to look at furious Alistair, a split second to mouth _stay put!_ at him before they hauled her to the center of the room. The guards shuffled around, and her metal shackles were soon replaced by thick ropes and she was hung from the ceiling in shape of a Y.

"Ye ain't gonna be needing this, wench." A guard sneered as he pressed the cool edge of a dagger against her breast, slicing through the thin fabrics binding her chest. The blade then trailed down her side, and her smalls fell away as well.

She snorted.

"Really, Benin? That's the best you can do?" She giggled, lifting her head with some difficulty. Considering she was raised in as an apprentice in the Circle of Magi, being nude hardly affected her.

"Linny, Linny, Linny." Benin tutted somewhere behind her, his tone soft as if placating a small child.

"You must learn to be patient, little Linny." His footsteps clanged towards her, and she could _feel_ the chill climbing up her spine the closer the noise came. But she refused to flinch, to give him the satisfaction that tiny shiver could bring him. Instead she tossed her head, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

"Well, I always was energetic." She grinned, scanning the room from this new vantage point. It was a huge room, with tall arches going so far up that the ceiling was plunged in the darkness. There were no windows, the only wavering light produced by the burning candles lit the room. Various… equipment such as wooden racks, chains, and painful looking things took up most of the pace, leaning against the walls or placed on the floor. She could see countless dark stains of dried blood stains on the floor and gears now, though the owners of it were nowhere to be seen. Solona noted the only people in this room were her enemies, and Alistair locked in a small cell a few paces away. As long as she could find a way to keep Alistair safe from her magic, escape didn't seem impossible.

Cool leather touched her back, sliding up the small length to her shoulder blades before traveling down low towards her ass. Before long the rod traveled over the curve of her buttocks, coming to rest at the junction where her thighs met her cheeks.

"You were coddled." Benin's voice spoke by her ear, his tone conversational.

"Coddled and spoiled by that wretch Irving, by that undisciplined brat Cullen. Even the Knight-Commander was lenient when it came to you."

The leather-covered rod drew lazy circles on her skin as Benin continued.

"You are long overdue for a punishment, Linny. I know how you bent the rules in the Circle, naughty little thing. And bad girls must be punished."

A whistle in the air was the only warning before Solona lurched forward, biting down hard on her lips to contain her scream. Excruciating pain exploded on her back and her ropes creaked, forcing her to stay in place as she writhed, straining her tied arms to the utmost limit. She panted hard while bending over as much as her bindings allowed, forcing herself to breathe through the pain.

Benin leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Oh, don't you worry Linny. We wouldn't want you looking too… unpresentable for the Court. This beauty here won't mark your beautiful skin too much despite what it may feel like."

He waved the thing for her to see, and Solona realized what the leather rod was. It was the handle to a whip, multiple broad, supple leather strips hanging from its head. True to his words, Solona did not see any blood on them.

"My, how thoughtful of you." She gasped out, forcing her lips into a smile.

"Before we get started in earnest, shall we set some ground rules?" Benin tapped the whip against her cheek thoughtfully.

"We both know how powerful you are Linny. Maker's cursed you with even more magic than other Mages. But it will take ages for me to drain you of your mana completely, and who wants to waste time on such a menial task while there's fun to be had?"

"I thought patience was a good thing?" Solona wondered, earning a grin in return.

"Ah, that smart mouth of yours… I'll be sure to educate it properly soon enough." He sighed, rubbing a gauntleted finger over her bloody lips. The cool metal lessened the pain there somewhat. He drew his thumb back, licking away a drop of blood smeared on it.

"Now, you can blast away if you want and you might be able to do just that to those guards standing over there." Benin swept an arm out towards the guards standing by the torture gears, three of them all inspecting the equipment.

"But unluckily for you, I'm here too. And if you blast hard enough to overpower my Holy Smite, of course you'll also kill that manwhore in the cell as well."

Solona stiffened, refusing to look at Alistair. She'd been hoping Benin had completely forgotten about Alistair… but a hostage would do as well. As long as they left him alone, there was a chance they could both escape.

"Now Linny, say you won't rebel like a good girl." Benin grinned.

"…I won't." Solona bit out slowly, each word a painful drop out of her lips. Her response was met with a chorus of chuckles from the torturers.

"Good girl. Very good girl." Benin pecked a quick kiss on her cheek. "Now, let's get started."

Pain wrecked through her the moment he spoke, the whip lashing against her buttocks, her thighs, her back. The tendrils wrapped around her slender form, leaving angry welts wherever it kissed her skin, the red blossoming on her breasts, stomach, her back. She bit down on her lips until blood dripped from her mouth, unwilling to scream. She pulled and clawed against the ropes around her wrist, until it rubbed her skin raw, until blood trickled down her arms.

Faintly, she thought she heard Alistair shouting somewhere. But the blows raining down on her unprotected flesh never slowed, and Solona took comfort in Benin's maniacal obsession in her. She trusted as long as he was there, Alistair would be safe.

She wasn't sure how long she endured the whipping for. Ten minutes? An hour? Two? The only break was for the torturers to take turns in whipping her, and darkness had started to creep into her vision long ago. And when her world was fully swallowed up by blackness, icy bucket of water splashed into her face to bring her back. Dripping wet, the claws of the whip tore her skin apart, sending slivers of daggers into her bones before the heat from the blows dried her, repeating the process.

But Solona managed to suppress her screams. And they tired of the game before she did.

"Linny, does it not hurt?" His voice echoed far away, but she had no strength left in her to answer. The rod once again prodded against her face, and it forced her eyes up until Benin's green eyes lazily swam into focus.

"You won't scream, Linny. It's supposed to hurt, but… am I doing something wrong?" He asked, concern laced thick through his voice.

She coughed, her voice refusing to come until she cleared it painfully.

"I… I think… you're… the one that needs… some lessons… in patience." She whispered, hoarse.

"You think so?" Benin brushed against his beard, thoughtful. She hadn't noticed when he'd taken his gauntlets off.

"But men have been reduced to begging whelps after a round of whipping you've just endured… I don't understand." He mused, examining her bloody lips.

"What… can I… say? I'm… st… stubborn…" She panted.

A fierce grin replaced his frown, and Benin backhanded her. Her neck snapped, her body thrown sideways until her ropes creaked, bringing her back. Her shins dragged against the floor, her legs having buckled long ago. Only the ropes tied around her wrists kept her hanging upright.

"That you are, my dear Linny." Benin smiled and he backhanded her again. Her shoulders screamed in protest as she was flung against her restraints once more.

"Didn't think my boys would tire out before you though." He spoke, stroking her cheek tenderly as he did.

"Wusses." She gasped.

"Did you hear that boys? This tiny little thing managed to outlast you all. Ought to be ashamed of yourselves." Benin laughed. Solona wondered if she had imagined a hint of approval in his eyes.

"But Linny, we're working hard to get a confession out of you. We were supposed to get you to say… what was it?" Benin turned to ask the others. They only shrugged.

"Hmph, unimportant. Either way, you need to tell us how to punish you properly for not cooperating. Tell me, how did Irving chastise you in the Circle? How did Knight-Commander discipline you?"

"Try… flogging me." She spoke, willing her voice to stay steady. "Ah wait… you already did that, huh."

"Linny, Linny… it is difficult enough trying to… _play_ with you, without making it look like we did. But perhaps we should take a little risk. If worst comes to happen, well, we do have a spare one we can use." Benin glanced at the direction of a cell.

"So, what… do you want to do next?" Solona asked, drawing his attention back to herself quickly.

"I always was fond of your… enthusiasm." He grinned. "Good girl, let me give you a small reward. I'll give you a choice… you see over there?" He pointed, and Solona twisted her head with an effort to look where he was pointing.

A wooden rack rested on the floor, with two pulleys attached at each end and connected to the cranks and ropes looped around the wheels.

"That's one option. Your other two options are over there." And he pointed across the room, toward another wooden contraption that stood on four legs carrying a horizontal triangular body. Right nearby was a taller stool with a wooden pyramid on top. Above the two hung a metal collar, she saw.

"This… may come as a surprise Benin," Solona panted.

"But I know nothing about torture devices. All I see are rectangles and triangles."

The men roared with laughter. She noticed there were more now than before.

"Well, you're not wrong." Benin chuckled heartily, finally settling down. "Thought the brilliant Linny might be able to figure out what they're for, but I suppose everyone has their limits."

"That rectangular rack you see there? Well, it's called a rack. Not too hard, is it?" He waited, and she shook her head.

"What happens is, we strap you down on it with the ropes you see there, your arms and legs separately of course, and we crank the handles. You're pulled apart, until all your limbs are dislocated. Maybe if we pull hard enough your limbs will tear off." He explained cheerfully, and Solona couldn't help but shudder at the image it brought up in her head. She remembered Oswyn she'd rescued, who'd been strapped to the rack. She was glad she hadn't examined the device closely back then.

"And the other two?" She asked.

"Ah, that stool you see? We call it the Maferath's cradle. We'd sit you on it, Linny. Though I must mention, with my boys being so lazy they don't ever wash the pointy part. Unsavory bits from previous users may still be on there."

"Men, they're always such pigs." She shook her head, sighing.

"And for the last but not least, we have the wooden horse. Maybe we'll call it a wooden pony for little Linny, hmm? Works pretty much the same as the Maferath's cradle. You'd sit on top of it."

Solona scanned the torture devices, her mind whirling. The rack was out of the question, absolutely. If all her limbs were dislocated, how could she possibly fight? Her chances of escape diminished rapidly with it. So she was left with the two triangular options. They didn't seem too different… but Benin mentioned that one of them wasn't ever cleaned. Perhaps she could catch an infection from it? Solona wasn't too worried – before the infection could do serious harm to her, Wynne would be able to heal her. But if she wasn't able to escape from this prison in time...

"Now Linny, you must choose. What would you like to do? Which toy shall we play with?"

"The horse. I always did want to try riding a horse." She shrugged the best she could. "But I wouldn't mind too much if you sat me down for a while on the cradle either. My legs are killing me here, Benin."

"The horse it is!" He exclaimed, waving forth the other men. "Let's get her on that horse quickly, boys! I wouldn't want to keep Linny waiting."

Turned out, riding the horse was a little more complicated than she thought to be.

The guards fiddled with the legs of the horse, somehow adjusting the height of the triangular body until she could just barely brush against the floor with the tip of her toes. Once they were satisfied with that, one torturer snapped the metal collar around her neck, and pulled it tight until she had some difficulty breathing. Her hands were, of course, tied behind her back so she couldn't cast. Soon the men stepped away, leaving Solona to tither precariously on the horse. She bit down on her lips once more, feeling the sharp edge of the 'horse' press severely against her cunt. The collar helped to alleviate some of her weight, but in turn it limited her breathing.

Benin observed her carefully then stepped forward. "Almost complete, Linny. Just need to fix one small thing…"

With a delicate, almost tender touch, Benin pressed his finger against her lower lips. Solona started, tried to twist her body away as much as she could but it only gave cause for others to laugh as she was quite securely immobile. Benin carefully parted her lower lips, until the edge bore in directly against her soft inner flesh, and her clit. Solona whimpered, the quiet noise leaking out of bitten lips.

"There you go. Feeling alright, Linny?"

"I… thought… horses… galloped." Solona hissed through clenched teeth.

"That they do, dear. But it's your first time riding a horse, is it not? Small steps, Linny. Small steps. For now, I do believe we will follow your advice and continue flogging. Boys?"

And the men stepped towards with lascivious grins, each holding their own whips she'd gotten so closely acquainted with earlier. Savage blows soon rained down on her exposed flesh, and Solona writhed as much as she could. But her collar kept her spine straight, and she could not curl in on herself, to find that meager protection. She tasted the sharp metal tang of blood on her tongue, her breasts rippled and bounced as the leather slapped against them, and her buttocks jumped to draw out appreciative whistles and groans from her tormentors each time the whip flew across her skin.

And through it all, Solona's legs shook with exhaustion to carry her weight on her toes, her breathing labored against the metal collar. And when she felt the welcome unconsciousness envelop her, metal collar would bite into her neck to bring her back. Tears welled up, and fell. Angry tears she could not wipe rolled down her cheeks, and she saw Benin's satisfied smile light up his face. Alistair's continued shouts and screams rang out hollow in the huge room, and Solona prayed, prayed for this nightmare to be over soon.

Thankfully, the guards whipping her, flaying her soon began to tire. Until she was left trembling on the horse, no blows forthcoming to further redden her.

The room had emptied out while she was being beaten, and she now only saw two guards in the room.

"Traitorous slut," she heard them mutter, but she could not bring herself to care.

Her legs were on fire, exhaustion shaking them painfully until she could not support herself anymore. Her neck was rubbed raw the on metal collar, and she felt the slickness of blood. She could see nothing, hear nothing beyond the small bubble of the horse – not even Alistair's anguished cry could shake her out of the pained stupor.

Until rough hands pulled at her breasts.

She snapped her head up, to look at the two guards crowding around.

"Wha…" she rasped, her throated parched dry.

"Cunt, we don't care if you want to submit or not. All we want is to deliver justice on traitors." One of them growled.

The other grabbed a handful of her breast with a bruising force, and Solona whined weakly.

"Until Knight-Corporal gives us the permission though, all we can do is wait. So we'll wait, and prepare your right." He sneered.

"Your cunt will be full with us soon enough." They chuckled, before leaving her alone.

For the rest of the hours she was blissfully ignored, Solona endured. She did not look to Alistair, or speak to him as the guards stayed with her, and she did not wish to draw any attention to him than absolutely necessary. And like that she rode the horse for all night long.


	2. Tortured

All too soon, the door banged open to admit Benin again.

"Hello Linny, did you have a good night's sleep?" He asked, knowing all too well she was forced to keep awake on the horse.

"Slept like a baby," she croaked.

"Yes, yes, that's good." He replied distractedly, staring thoughtfully at her breasts. "My boys have brought something to my attention last night, Linny. They say that perhaps _this_ sort of pain isn't the type to break a Warden like you. What do you think?"

"I…"

"Oh but dear girl, you must be exhausted. Shall we let you down so you get a chance to rest your legs?"

A guard moved behind her and loosened the chain hoisting the collar up. She collapsed, her full weight finally being pressed down against the horse and she very nearly did scream, the edge cutting into her most sensitive flesh. And she fell off the hateful wooden horse, thumping onto the filthy floor like a sack. The cool stone felt unbelievably soothing against her abused skin, and she lay on her side with her hands still tied behind her back. Not even an army of darkspawn could motivate her to budge an inch.

"Tired?" Benin smirked, and Solona cracked an eye open to glare at him.

"Don't worry Linny. I'll move you if you don't want to yourself." He shrugged, unperturbed. He squatted down, the motion possible because he wasn't wearing any armor today, she noticed. Then he grabbed her by the hips and lifted up, forcing her onto her knees with her cheek pressed against the floor. She twisted, trying to escape his clutches but he pulled on her until her ass pointed up. His gaze bore into her, obliterating any illusion of privacy she might have clung to.

"Stay." He said, after he finished inspecting her.

Solona kicked out with her leg, intending to catch his jaw. But the hours spent on the horse had spent her muscles, and Benin easily caught her foot before she could land a blow.

"Linny, Linny. Didn't we discuss ground rules already?" He sighed, disappointment coloring his voice.

"I don't remember using my magic," she shot back. Solona didn't like how drained she sounded.

"I really thought you were smarter than this. What could you possibly achieve by attacking me?" He mused, forcing her leg back into place as he wanted. His hands dug into her hips, keeping her immobile.

"My… personal satisfaction?" She suggested.

"You brought this on yourself, Linny." He murmured, and he sounded truly sorry. Solona swallowed with some difficulty, and tested the ropes binding her hands behind her back.

"Hey you, bring that over here."

"Yesser," a guard trotted over, and Solona twisted around to see what he'd brought.

"He said, stay!" Stars danced in her eyes as someone stomped on her head, slamming her onto the stone. Trapped by pairs of hands keeping her immobile, all she could do was strain to hear what Benin was up to.

Before long, a familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed echoed in the room.

"It's a decent blade," Benin muttered.

Did he mean to execute her? No, she didn't think he would. At least not yet.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for her answer – and she bit back a scream as something unyielding breached her down _there_ , spreading her brutalized flesh apart.

Tears of humiliation burned hot, each drop leaving a wet trail behind. Her exhausted mind and body could not comprehend the violence he inflicted on her, and clung to a semblance of notion that perhaps what he's doing was a widespread practice for the prisoners and she's simply unaware.

"Maker, you should see yourself Linny." He whispered, almost reverent. "You look magnificent."

Strangled cry echoed against the walls and Solona wasn't quite sure if it was her or Alistair who made the sound. It must have been Alistair, because someone muttered, "maybe he feels like he's the one fucking her?"

With that Solona knew what filled her abused sex. A polished red steel scabbard, gleaming in the dim light. Long and straight edges gracefully narrowing to a tapered end, housing Duncan's longsword they'd recovered from Ostagar. Bearing the lasting traces of Duncan's rough hands, it was the sole keepsake Alistair treasured of the man.

She writhed against the pressure, screaming herself hoarse as she tried to crawl off it but couldn't. Benin fucked her relentlessly with it, and it was too big, too filling for her to slip away. He laughed with maniacal glee as she sobbed, each sharp jab seeming to bring him physical pleasure. Strong pairs of hands never let up and unable to escape from the endless strokes rubbing against her insides, Solona shrieked against forced orgasm inching closer. Few fingers fondled against her bundle of nerves, and few more pinched the peak of her breasts, and Duncan's scabbard filled her to the brim.

Benin stopped when she was a hair's breadth away from tipping over the edge, panting himself hoarse, his cock straining against his trousers. She wept in silence, trembling as much as the iron grips holding her in place allowed.

"What a waste it is to fill you up with something like this." He growled, tossing Duncan's precious scabbard away.

"Sit her on the cradle." Benin commanded and she was once again hauled up, the motions around her all a blur. She vaguely felt her legs wrenched open wide, as wide as they could go, ropes stretched to keep her spread. Her hateful collar stayed tight around her throat as she was transferred over, and more ropes were fastened around her body to hang her above the Maferath's cradle.

Benin's rough pair of hands grasped her buttocks already slick with herself, and Solona felt him spreading her ass cheeks to expose her once more.

"Lower her." He growled, and she felt it.

The sharp pyramid tip nudged against her tight ring of muscle initially, but they continued to lower her and her weight pressed down upon it, stretching her ass open onto the pyramid. She cried, whimpering as her ass was forced apart, ripping and tearing to accommodate the wooden intrusion.

Zevran had shown her how pleasurable it could be to take an attentive lover with her ass, both Zevran and Alistair spending hours, days to familiarize her to them. But the cradle was merciless in its entry, brutally skewering her.

"You're looking divine." Benin breathed, mesmerized by the sight.

For once she couldn't move her tongue to make a witty reply, and Benin smiled wider. He stepped closer to her, his bare hands grabbing firmly onto her breasts. He weighed each of them in his hands, and started to knead them slowly. He squeezed just hard enough to be painful, massaging them and rolling her nipples between tight pinches. His devilish green eyes watched for every tremor, didn't miss even the tiniest shift in her expression.

"How do you feel Linny? As good as how you look?" He asked, and Solona heard the low chuckles from other torturers. What a sight she must be, spread open by the cradle while he fondled her breasts. With her cunt fucked open by her deceased senior officer's sheathe. Abused by Duncan's trace in this world while Alistair watched. She croaked, her arid throat unable to even make whimpering noises.

"So as I was saying earlier, my boys thought a more… _personal_ approach would help. Now we weren't sure if you'd been trained in that hole yet," He said, his right hand traveling down low to unclasp the buckle of his trouser, while his remaining one still tugged and rolled her sensitive flesh.

"So we will stretch it open – and while we wait, we'll play with your other hole."

She trembled, shaking her restraints in a feeble attempt to twist away from the man. But Benin came closer with his fully hard cock held in his hand.

"I'm sure this is not your first time to service a Templar. But Cullen and Knight-Commander would have been merciful. I follow the will of the Maker, Linny. Expect nothing from me, but the punishment you deserve for your sins."

And he forced it in. The pain of being simply _taken_ ripped through her anew as Benin slammed his way in, settling deep inside her before drawing out, and slamming in again.

"Maker's balls, you're a good fuck." He breathed, closing his eyes.

Solona howled. Her hoarse throat released the scratchy, agonized wail she couldn't recognize as her own, and she wrenched at the ropes keeping her spread open for him, strained at the bindings keeping her hands useless, twisted, trembled, and screamed as Benin widened her passage with sheer force of his pounding strokes. But Solona did not cast. She clamped down on her magic just like she did her muscles, refusing to let out any of her boiling magic. She couldn't, not with Alistair so close by.

"Andraste's tits, would'ja lookit that. The whoreson's finally shut 'is trap!"

Through the tears and the devastating agony she shuddered through, Solona realized the guard was right. Alistair had gone completely, horribly silent. She peeked through her tears, hoping that he was alright.

"Maybe he's screwed little Linny before?" Benin wondered, searching her eyes. He found what he was looking for.

"Tut, tut, Linny. What a loose whore you'd been. You must be punished further." He said, suddenly withdrawing from her. Her cunt felt strangely empty, the hot pulsating pain lingering despite his withdrawal.

"Turn her around so she can face him." Benin ordered.

"No, no… Benin, no." She whimpered, but the men moved fluid around her. They turned her around, the pyramid tearing her ass anew as she was spun while impaled on the wooden thing, and she screamed again, and again.

And then she was facing Alistair.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the bars, his face dead and cold. Rage and hatred had sculpted his features into an icy mask, one she's never seen on him before. Shame and guilt clawed into her for forcing Alistair to see her so, spread open for another man's pleasure with her ass stretched out by a wooden pyramid.

"I'm sorry," she cried softly. He did not respond.

"Linny, Linny," Benin sighed.

"This will not do. The Chantry was clear on the regulations against Mages spawning more of its demonic magic blood. If you would allow yourself to be waylaid by the temptations of pleasure, then I will ensure that you will taste it from me, and with it the proper punishment for submitting."

He stroked her cunt with gentle fingers, slick with pleasure and blood mixing together.

"Now Linny, I want you to service me, and feel pleasure from it. You shall be my pet, hmm?" He tugged on her collar.

She spat, not willing to grace such words with an answer.

"If not, I could make that manwhore suffer what you've endured, or worse. We could cut off a few toes, pull out a few nails and teeth. Castrate him even, perhaps. He is, after all, only a spare."

Solona trembled, her jaws clenched so tight it hurt, and Alistair's blazing eyes spoke of the fury that boiled the blood in their veins. But she could not ever allow such horrors to be inflicted upon him, not when it was within her power to avert such fate.

"Please… allow me to serve you, Ser Bennin." She bit out through ground teeth, hatred dripping from every word.

"Good girl." He smiled, pushing his fingers inside her. There was triumphant victory in his eyes as he swirled around inside her, rubbing against her walls and stretching her, preparing her for him once more even if it was a little late. His callused fingers expertly massaged her sex, swirled around to bring arousal over the tearing pain to the front of her mind.

After a few gentle rubs he pushed his way back in, with far less resistance than before. Benin wasn't as large as Alistair was, she realized. A small mercy, but Solona took whatever she could get. Benin wasn't as skilled as Zevran was either. But he was a Templar, and Templars had their renowned stamina even if it was not comparable to that of a Grey Warden's. He set a steady pace, fully intending to enjoy himself.

"If you do not come before me, I will place him on the racks." Benin mused idly.

Fine then. Solona opened her eyes, and Alistair readily filled her vision. His strawberry-blond hair was tousled, his face frozen with white-hot rage.

"I'm so sorry, Alistair." She cried. How could he ever forgive her what she was about to do? But even if he looked to her with disgust, she didn't want Alistair to come to any harm.

So she tried to remember the time she and Alistair had played… rough, with Zevran's help. It'd done wonders to shake off their stress, and she'd enjoyed immensely. Thinking back, the pain in her taut ass, the endless crashing of Benin's cock began to meld with the pleasure she shared with her lovers. Her cunt was soaked by her forced pleasure already, and her voiced turned from pained gasps to breathy moans. She always did love having Alistair inside her. Her eyes locked onto his furious ones, despising herself as she delved deeper into this horrid pleasure, moaning and writhing, dripping wet while Alistair, her love, watched her servicing another man.

Whistles rang out from the watching guards, most of them already stroking themselves as they watched.

"Lookit, whore's actually enjoying herself. Who'd've thought, eh?"

"She's a fucking Mage, them's all sluts."

More chuckled, cocks jutting out, pre-come dripping from their heads as they greedily drank in the sight of her.

"Ser, might we lean her back? Put 'er mouth to a better use?" Someone asked and Benin jerked his head in assent, not bothering with a verbal permission. He rammed in to her again and again, seeking his release.

The ropes creaked as the guards readjusted them, and soon she found that her torso was slowly being lowered. The additional slack drove the cradle deeper into her ass and she moaned and bucked before the rope around her waist steadied her in the air.

"Now give it 'ere, whore." Someone muttered, and suddenly she was choking. Someone shoved his cock in her throat, filling her deep until she couldn't breathe. She felt it pulsing in her throat, and she trembled, gagging on the filthy stench and salty taste of sweat. She resisted, as instinct demanded.

Sensations erupted on her nipples as someone cracked their whip against her breasts, and she clenched down tight with her muscles as well as her magic. She heard a low _fuck!_ as Benin breathed, cock rammed in deep inside her throbbing, aching cunt.

"Struggle, and remember yer whoreson is gonna git it."

Solona relaxed instantly, slackening her jaws and opening her throat to accommodate the man. Her mouth was strained wide open, her tears pooling and falling as she wrestled against the cock stuffed down her throat.

"Good girl," the guard mimicked Benin.

The man fucked her mouth with fervor, slamming in and out while others watched the two rape her willing flesh.

Some whipped her if she slowed down in servicing with her mouth, others slapped her already-reddened skin. Until she felt the cock bulging in her throat, and the man slammed in, coming in thick spurts straight down her throat. He held her head in a crushing grip and Solona chocked, refusing to swallow his seed. Feeble resistance, but it was the most she could manage.

The man panted, withdrawing his softening shaft from her mouth and slapped her cheek. "Who's next?"

"I am," another took the first's place, and once again a cock was forced into her mouth. She licked and sucked, remembering all that Zevran's taught her to please Alistair and himself. Judging by the guttural groans they weren't disappointed.

Stuttering jerks between her legs forced her to turn her attention to Benin, and she noticed tremors in his body, his rhythmic thrusts growing sharper and more desperate.

Maker, she prayed, please let her come before he did. She moaned and whined, thinking of Alistair's fingers teasing her for hours in their bedrolls, of Zevran's skilled tongue driving her over the brink. She needed to come before Benin did.

"Please… Maker, please let me come…" she pleaded, her voice muffled by the cock thrusting in and out of her mouth.

"Ha, she wants to come! Lads, should we let her?"

"Aye, let her come. Dozens more after that too! She'll learn the agony of her orgasms, aye she will." Others chortled.

She heard it before she felt it. The creak of the ropes being loosened, the whistle of a whip splitting air. Solona screamed, writhing as her ass slid further down the pyramid in time with the whip lashing on her nipples, just as Benin crashed his cock inside her, filling her completely. She writhed and twisted, her muscles clenching around the massive wood inside her ass, around the iron shaft inside her cunt, her orgasm tearing through her with frightful strength. She was being torn in half, every nerve in her body set alight with exotic blend of pain and pleasure. Cruel laughs sounded as she suffered through the waves of her orgasm, again and again, crying and whimpering, moaning and pleading.

With powerful short strokes Benin found his release inside her, his thick spurts of seed feeling treacherously warm within. He panted and laid his weight on her, his unwelcome pressure further driving her down onto the cradle.

"Good girl, Linny. Good girl," he whispered as his breathing returned to normal.

"Guess the manwhore's safe this round hmm?" Someone muttered.

"Now, what do we say after such a nice treat?" Benin cooed.

"Say your prayers?" Solona hissed.

"Wha-"

"Alistair!" She screamed, the noise tearing out of her lungs. Immediately, she could see Alistair diving for the farthest possible corner of the cell away from her.

"You-"

Solona exploded, magic thundering through her crackling skin. Benin flew off her body like a pebble, smashing against a stone wall. Men shrieked, howls of pain silenced abruptly by twisted necks, scorched out lungs. The entire torture wing shuddered and creaked under the immense pressure of her magic. Within seconds the room lay in ruin, most things within crushed to dust. Including that rack.

"Sol!" Alistair clanged against the bent cell bars, squinting.

"Alistair, are you hurt?" She coughed.

"No, Sol. That bastard blocked most of the direct blast towards me, and I cast Cleanse. You need to get off that thing. They must have reinforced the cell bars – I still can't get free!"

Gasping for air thick with dust, Solona tore her arms free from the frayed bindings. Her arms screamed as her shoulders finally relaxed into place. Bending over, Solona gripped her shoulders and forced breaths into her lungs, until the clawing pain dulled to insistent needle pricks. Bracing her hands on the pyramid, she pushed herself up off the Maferath's Cradle. Her arms shook with exhaustion and her legs hung limp by her sides, but within minutes she freed herself and tumbled onto the ground.

"Sol?" Alistair's desperate cry echoed.

"I'm fine,"

Or, as fine as she could be.

Her ass felt too loose, and her every muscle shrieked in protest at being bound for so long. There was come dripping from her cunt, leaving creamy white trails down her thighs. All her torn wounds were left to air, the constant sting a reminder of the shameful display she'd shown for Alistair.

She shuddered to her knees, limbs as week as newborn fawn's. Unable to find her feet she crawled towards Alistair's cell. Already, she could hear the distant calling of alarms ringing.

"Sol, oh Sol."

She pointed towards the lock and blasted it with a lightning bolt, sapping away all her remaining mana. Black smoke rose high into the room, hiding them from view.

"One more time, Sol. It's almost-"

Solona screamed as piercing pain slammed into her gut, sending her tumbling. Sprawled on the cold stone, someone stepped on her head and _pressed_.

"Linny," Benin's voice growled.

Sudden clangs of metal hitting metal split the air, insistent, pounding, screaming – and in that splitting noise Benin threatened to spill her brain onto the ground.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Linny? Tell me."

"Yes, Knight-Corporal." She replied, grinning despite his foot crushing her head. He was bloody and torn, having received the brunt of her attack while he lay on top. A fraction of second too late with his Cleansing, and he would have been pathetic ground meat. Such a shame.

"I bloody enjoyed it, _immensely."_

A savage blow took him clean off the ground, as Alistair appeared out of nowhere with fury alive in his eyes. Dazed, Solona watched the man sail across the air with faint satisfaction. It almost seemed poetic somehow.

"Sol, we need to move now. Grab on to me." Without waiting for her response he shouldered her dead weight and lifted.

"I think I hit my head," she mumbled. The world looked so very strange… layer after layer overlapping where only one world should have been.

"I know, Sol. Just hold on. We just got to get out of here. We'll find our gears, dismember these bastards, and return to slit Anora's throat in no time."

"Is this the part where I tell you to leave me behind? My legs won't carry my weight anymore, my head is spinning, I'll be nothing but a burden on you…"

"Sol, I am not-"

"I know."

She felt the grip tighten on he, and saw his jaw clenched tight as he hurried toward the door.

"Sol-"

Alistair lurched forward, clutching her tight as he fell. Her hazy eyes saw the blurry lines of Maker-damned Benin standing over them with Duncan's scabbard.

"Linny, Linny, did you think I'd let you go so easily?" He panted, dragging her out of Alistair's arms. She kicked at his hands, weak but trying.

"The guards are already on their way. Can't you hear them Linny? Their footsteps. That wasn't very smart of you."

"Get! Off!" She shouted, dragging up her depleted mana. Desperate tugs at her magic only made him laugh even more.

"In here!"

"Ser, are you alright? What- Maker, ser, you're injured!"

"Get off her!" Alistair roared, ignoring the guards pouring in as he launched himself at Benin. His bloody fist cracked against his skull, satisfying crunch reverberating. Benin reeled back and screamed, lashing out with the scabbard.

"Get him!"

"Don't you touch her!"

Five guards piled upon each other to subdue him, smashing a pommel into his temple to daze Alistair before forcing him to kneel in front of her, his hands bound behind his back. Solona looked up dazed to see blood dripping from his mangled fist, where he'd busted his hand open on breaking open the lock.

"I am going to kill you!" Benin screeched, stumbling towards him with a dagger.

"Benin, stop!" Solona screamed.

Miraculously, he did stop. He whipped around, frenzied eyes focusing onto her.

"Linny, ah Linny. Almost forgot you, didn't I? Forgive me, really…"

"Ser, you must get treated-"

"Silence!" He roared, making the guards flinch.

"Now, we were playing a game, weren't we Linny? Where were we? Ah, yes. Now I remember. Did you like having me fuck your cunt in front of your lover? Did you get wetter, knowing he was watching you? Your drenched, sopping cunt being ploughed by me while he saw every stroke of my cock thrusting in you?"

She glared up at the man, who pointedly pressed the blade closer to Alistair's throat. Solona clenched her teeth so hard that it hurt, before settling her gaze on the floor.

"Yes, Knight-Corporal." She hissed.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I loved servicing the Sers in front of my lover." She spat.

"Good girl, Linny. But it's not fair to him if only you get to enjoy. You must learn to share."

"Now, suck him." Benin ordered. Dumbfounded, Solona looked up at the man, but he did not budge. The guards around them looked as surprised as she was, but the man did not budge. Lowering the dagger, he cut off Alistair's smalls as they'd done to hers and freed his manhood.

"Go on," Benin smiled.

Solona hesitated, but with even her magic taken away she had little choice but to lean and take him in her mouth as she often did. She heard a low hiss as Alistair felt her wet mouth, and she licked up his shaft, swirled her tongue over the head, and sucked. Alistair was larger than any men here, but she was more accustomed to him. Soon she coaxed Alistair to his full length, his impressive size sheathed inside her mouth. In the background, few lighted the candles to shine light onto them.

The intrusion came without warning. She felt the strong fingers grip her hips, and in one savage stroke someone pounded into her ass. She howled, her sounds muffled by Alistair being drove down her throat as someone laid claim to her anal passage. It was a punishing pace they set, with each slap of wet flesh burning her sensitized skin, obscene noise smacking with every thrust as she swayed with the rhythm. Her tears rolled down her cheeks, and the one raping her ass gripped her hair and pulled while Benin kept her leash short.

"Now, now. We know your ass was prepared for this. Don't make a fuss, Linny." Benin sounded bored, and yet furious.

"And… manwhore? If you come in her throat, I'll put her back on the Maferath's cradle, and lower her twice as much."

She felt him stiffen, felt an angry growl rumbling in his body. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that she'll be fine, but with him inside her mouth she couldn't tell him anything.

And so, the nightmare continued with Alistair panting and growling, _straining_ against her mouth with an effort to keep himself from his release, while the men took turns holding down Alistair or raping her ass. Each torturer spilled their seed inside her, holding themselves in until they were absolutely certain they were completely spent. She hadn't realized just how impressive Alistair's Warden stamina was, until the last of the men fucked her ass and withdrew. Their spunk spilled out of her fucked-open hole, and Solona collapsed, unseeing, unfeeling on to the floor.

Somewhere above her Benin's voice echoed.

"Stubborn bastard. I must admit I'm impressed."

Solona gasped, gripping at Alistair's knee with all her remaining meager strength. If Alistair was to make a smart comment…

But she needn't have worried. Alistair was beyond the capacity to jibe, to provoke Benin – she almost didn't recognize him. Corrosive hatred clung to him, his teeth clenched tight, eyes alight with fury. She was relieved, and yet feared for him all the same.

Benin kicked him over, forcing Alistair down on the ground. He rubbed Alistair's face against the stone floor, in the wet puddle of her ecstasy, and semen which'd been poured inside her, leaked out of her fucked open ass.

"Rut, you mongrel. Rut like a dog and I'll allow her to stay off the horse until you come." Benin snarled, slamming his head against the floor again.

"No!" She croaked, the most she could manage. "Don't…"

"Do it!" Benin shouted, and to her horror Alistair began to thrust his hips. It couldn't have been pleasurable, the rough rocks painful to his over-sensitized cock. She choked back her sobs, pleading for him to stop, for Benin to play with her instead. But Alistair continued to shake his hips, his cock smeared by their seed on the floor as he rubbed himself in the aftermath of her rape.

She wept, until Benin finally turned his attention back onto her.

"Pretty little Linny, why do you cry?" He asked, once again concern thick in his voice.

"Leave him be!"

"Are you sad that I won't play with you? Don't be said, Linny. I have something special planned for you."

"Benin, let him stop." She wheezed.

"That'd be Knight-Corporal, Linny." He growled, pulling her up by her hair again.

"You must learn to pay for your mistakes. I won't let that mongrel stop rutting until you service the men here." He threw her towards the guards standing nearby, some looking uncertain, others looking delighted as their bloody officer offered them a treat.

She looked to her love still rutting on the floor. Alistair was gritting his teeth, watching her with eyes overflowing with malevolence. But he did not stop rutting, despite his bulging red-purple cock being rubbed raw, and Solona steeled herself.

"Anybody who's worth his salt will fuck her!" Thundering cheer rose up, and before Solona could so much as yelp too many hands were on her. She felt rough fingers pinching, grabbing, pulling, tugging, and her cunt was so wet from earlier, so sopping wet she felt humiliation burn at the tips of her ears.

A cock slammed its way inside her, but she found herself unable to even wonder just who was buried inside her.

"Shake yer arse, slut." The man slurred, and shit did. She fucked herself up on his cock, forcing herself up and down his shaft the best she could by thrusting her hips.

"Cunt's as lose as two-copper whore." The man complained, and Solona wanted to snort, to laugh at the absurdity of it. She couldn't care less about how the assault on her felt for them.

"Just gotta make 'er tight." Someone muttered, and Solona felt heavy pressure on her back. Broad head nudged at her other entrance, hands spreading her out, and another cock pushed its way inside her, fucking her deep. She gasped as it entered inside her, the engorged cock stretching her out inside.

"Maker's balls, that fuckin' feels fantastic." Someone mumbled. It might have been the short stubby man. She couldn't tell.

Pierced both in her cunt and her ass, Solona couldn't stop the shuddering orgasm which exploded in her core, couldn't stop moaning out as the guards pinched her bruised nipples, slapped her reddened buttocks, and slapped her face. They tugged on her collar until she was low enough to suck on a cock as well. They pounded inside her, one cock always followed by another, endless stream of men raping her every hole, in her throat, in her throbbing cunt, in her aching ass. They forced her through shattering, agonizing orgasms one after another, each one bringing humiliation as hard as the cock ploughing her.

Their laughter and taunts of her taking pleasure tore at her, made each time she come more explosive than the last. She wept and moaned with every breath she could spare.

Eventually, Benin's harsh voice cut through the endless repetition of her rape.

"Linny, look over here a moment," he said, and Solona did her best to twist her head to look from the entangled mess of flesh.

Thank the Maker, Benin had let him stop rutting on the floor. Alistair was once again kneeling on the floor, his sizeable manhood jutting up and weeping pre-come with one guard who's already finished with her gripping his bound hands. She nearly winced at how red it had gotten, knew he must have been feeling as raw as she felt. Benin wrapped his hand around the thick shaft, giving it a squeeze. Alistair shuddered involuntarily, taking in a sharp breath.

"Looks like your whoreson is getting off on watching you." Benin laughed, giving another stroke.

"You like it when your whore's getting fucked by others? Do you sell her out to others, give them free reign?" He continued, chuckling as he stroked and pumped Alistair. Alistair's breathing turned harsh, panting, straining against the rough hand gripping him tight. Benin motioned for more oil, and poured generous amount onto his hands.

"How many men has she taken so far? How many times did they plough her holes? Have you been counting? I lost it around eight." He spoke, rubbing the slick over his fingers.

"You like others taking her, like the bitch she is?" He rubbed his fingers against Alistair's ass, slowly enough for Solona to watch with growing horror. She nearly forgot the others raping her in the moment, watching Benin slide three thick fingers inside Alistair's ass.

He finger-fucked him, and she saw Alistair trying to resist, trying to stop himself from coming. But there was a limit to even a Warden's stamina, and she saw he was losing the battle after hours of sexual abuse. Alistair was stretched open, must feeling the simmering burn she felt herself deep inside her. From the way his cock twitched, Benin must have been hitting _that_ spot, where Zevran had taught him the first time they'd been intimate together.

Solona felt herself clenching up, readying to come yet again, to burst as her captors fucked mindless into her holes, and Alistair grunted, shuddered as his eyes locked with hers. He saw her undeniable arousal there, along with shame and pain.

Benin pounded his fingers into Alistair's ass, fucking his ass deep and hard, and he laughed at them both.

"Come whoreson. While you watch your wench get screwed by countless others. There's no denying you take pleasure in watching her rape."

Alistair threw his head back, growling as thick spurts of come exploded from his cock. She watched him shudder and tremble, Benin's rough hands squeezing out the last of his seed from the pulsing shaft. Watching him come so hard, Solona felt her own orgasm approaching once more, her core flaring up hot, sweat pouring down her back. She screamed through the climax, exhausted.

The last of the cocks pulled out from her, and darkness claimed her once more.


	3. Rescued

She woke on the now-familiar stone floor of the room, with Benin crouched over her. He was no longer bloody now. In fact, he was washed and bandaged. But unlike him she was crusted with men's seed, the creamy white semen dry in her hair, crumbling over her skin.

"Good girl, Linny." He patted her, and yanked on her leash.

When she didn't budge, Benin tutted then gripped her hair again. She let him do as he pleased, her limp body no longer under her command. She searched for Alistair while Benin dragged her.

He was back inside the damaged cell, to her sharp relief.

"That was fun, wasn't it Linny?" He asked, then threw her against the wall with wooden boards nailed to it. Even without an order from him, the torturers picked her up and lashed her to the X shaped cross. She considered it a small mercy that she no longer could see anything but the grey stones in front of her.

"Leave us," she heard Benin say.

"But Ser, this wench-"

"I said out!"

There was a quiet tread of boots on stone, and then silence again. Solona carefully pulled at her magic, but found none responding to her call. Benin must have constantly drained her while she was out.

"Linny," he murmured. She closed her eyes, waiting.

"Linny, Linny. You damned Desire, trying to lure me away from the path of righteousness. Temptress, your malevolent seductions may have fooled the others, but I will never fall victim to it."

He placed one hand on her shoulder, while his other snaked around her waist. Benin pulled her flush against his body, dropping his head to her nape. She heard him inhale, then warm breath tickled her.

"You smell… good, Linny. Even now, under that stink of men, you smell like… you. You always did like oranges. Fingers always stained with citric juices from the peels. I remember,"

He embraced her from the back, his hardening shaft rubbing her between the cleft of buttocks through his rough cotton trousers.

"Do you remember, Linny? How I used to keep watch over you? You were going to be mine, Linny. _Mine."_

He squeezed her breast for emphasis, making her wince.

"Then Knight-Commander Gregoir gave you to Cullen! That little runt. He was too soft. Too weak. He didn't have what it took to be a Templar, and yet he got to own _you_. The prize of the Kinloch Hold."

"I am no one's Mage, Benin." She whispered.

"You are _always_ one's property. Your curse of magic ensures you're nothing but a whore that must be chained down. You exist to atone for your sins. Dangerous. We should have turned you Tranquil the moment you stepped over the threshold of Circle."

Benin trailed his free hand down from the flat of her stomach to her cunt, spreading her apart and rubbing. His other hand continued to massage her breasts, kneading and rolling her nipples. His words left warm trails on her throat, kisses following after.

"You would have been a good Tranquil. I would have asked for your assistance in my chambers, and you would have answered."

He nibbled on her jaw, and she turned away. Benin's cock was fully hard now, and she could feel the fabric at the tip wetting.

"Submit, Linny. Mage whore. You're mine."

"Never, Benin. I am no one's. No, not even Cullen's. Not anymore."

Benin growled, and ripped his trousers off. He slapped her ass as hard as he could, and she cried, twisting to get away.

"You will never be free!" He shouted.

"I am, and I always will be! I will never go back to the Circle!" She shouted right back.

Benin drove inside her with one powerful stroke, filling her completely. She grunted, feeling his weight settle inside. Benin hissed in a tight breath, each of his hands gripping her breasts.

After a few moments, Benin fucked her with brute strength. With her legs lashed apart, Solona felt the full weight of each blow. Tears wet her cheeks once again as Benin forced her up the slope once more, unwanted orgasm rushing ever closer. She arched her back, twisted away, and strained against her bindings but Benin dig his fingers into her beasts and hips, wrapped his arms around her waist, sunk his teeth into her shoulder to keep her immobile.

Her arousal dropped down his length, and her sensitized nipples brushed against his callused palms or the rough grains of the wooden cross. Benin rutted like a maddened beast, grunting and growling.

Her whole body heated, every nerve alight with fire. Every pound of his cock sliding in sent her hurtling closer, closer, and she bit down on her lips and closed her eyes. Solona wept, knowing Benin would send her tumbling over the edge.

 _"Mine!"_ He roared, spurting his seed inside her. He pulsed hot within, thick and heavy, panting. She followed, screaming as her walls constructed around his shaft. He pressed his weight on her, embracing her while their pulses slowed.

Once he recovered, Benin cut her bindings and allowed to fall. Solona lay on the stone floor, still buzzing with her orgasm.

He lifted her off the floor, and walked over to the wooden horse. He seated her over it and Solona groaned, the sharp edge already pressing on her tender flesh.

"Lean over, girl."

She resisted but Benin yanked on her leash. Leaning low over the sharp edge, Solona waited while Benin bound her hands again while bracing her legs against the triangular body to ease the pain.

Benin tied her hands and walked around, disappearing from her view. Moments later, something hard breached her cunt, making it strain to take whatever he pushed inside and she moaned.

"Up, Linny."

She sat up, feeling the thing inside her press in deep as her weight forced the horse up her crotch. She breathed deeply, wishing for the room to stop spinning.

"Don't be scared, Linny. It's just to plug you up with my seed." Benin chuckled, smoothing back her hair and hooking her collar onto the chains again. She sat pinned between her weight and the collar.

"You were wondering about galloping horses, weren't you Linny? Well, here you go." Benin leaned down and she heard a snap, and to her alarm the horse began to rock.

"Wha-" She cried, but before she could even finish that word the edge of the horse dug in to her cunt, and she screamed through the pleasure-pain that ripped through her.

"I removed the wedge keeping the horse still. Now it'll gallop all night long as you wanted." Benin grinned, and drawing close he kissed her. A soft, tender kiss that was a gentle press against her bloody lips.

"Good night, Linny." He breathed, and was gone.

Solona panted, fear clawing at her as she felt the horse rock beneath her. If she kept absolutely still, it did not budge as much. But the lightest shift of her weight and the wooden horse galloped, as Benin promised. She whimpered, desperately in need of rest, and yet seated on this cruel, cruel device.

"Sol," Alistair's voice echoed in the large room, and she stiffened.

"Sol, I'm so sorry." He spoke, his voice no more than a whisper. "I'm so, so, sorry."

"No… Alistair, no." she cooed. "It's my fault… I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"Sol, but I-"

"Alistair, you did _everything_ you could. Benin's had it in for me since the Circle."

"Right. Okay. I'll try to believe that. Right. Just need to believe that. So we can get out of here. Easy-peasy. Yes." He didn't sound like he believed that.

"Is there any way you can get out of that cell?"

Light scraps and shuffles sounded as Alistair searched. If they could stop thinking, if they could focus their minds on escaping, perhaps they could forget about all this just for a moment.

"No, nothing." His frustrated voice sounded in the dim darkness, and she cursed. There had to be a way, there had to be!

"Think…" she muttered, her eyes searching the shadows. She couldn't blow up her magic – Benin had made certain she had no mana left. It would also bring every guard in the Fort running here like before. Something quiet and mundane, something they wouldn't expect from a Mage. Or something they were expecting already, like her aroused moans, her screams of pleasure…

She looked down at her bound hands, the thick ropes that tied her wrists together in loops.

She was sitting on a wooden horse with a sharp edge.

Maybe, just maybe… it was sharp enough to saw through the ropes?

But the horse rocked with even the lightest twitch from her.

"Alistair, I think I can saw off the rope." She whispered, closing her eyes. Silence followed her words, as Alistair fully understood what would happen if she tried to move enough to free herself.

"I will make every one of them suffer for what they did to you, Sol. I'll personally rip their balls off and stuff it down their throat." Alistair growled, menace in his voice starling her anew.

"…do you mind if I pin them down while you do? Or perhaps kick them?" she asked. After a moment or two, a quiet sigh and a welcome chuckle sounded from him. Weak, but still undoubtedly Alistair.

"I'll even let you set them on fire."

"It's a deal," she smiled, and set to work.

* * *

"You know, you never feel so alive as when you're breaking and entering." Zevran murmured, looking around at the mounted ballistae inside the fort. What was the point of putting them inside the fort, he wondered.

"You're right! This is so exciting!" Leliana whispered back, her eyes glimmering. "It's been for _ever_ since I got to infiltrate somewhere."

"Were it under different circumstances, I wager we'd both enjoy this far more," he said.

"But I don't think we'll be able to talk our way past anyone back here when we come out."

"Ah, but our dear Wardens wouldn't want to leave so quietly either, I would think. Now, how will we find them?" As if to answer his question a scream pierced through the air, leaving behind an eerie echo. It was a voice he recognized all too readily. His dear Warden's voice.

Fear and rage gripped his heart and he raced forward, leaving startled Leliana behind. How dare they make his Warden scream so? What had these bastards done to her while he wasn't by her side?

"Zevran, calm down! You'll bring all the guards down on us!" Leliana hissed to him, wrenching him back. "There's a reason we waited for a nightfall! Are you planning to waste this chance?"

Her scream sounded again, and Zevran's blood boiled. He saw red, and felt the _need_ to tear apart every single guards in the Fort, to bathe them in their own blood until they begged for death.

"Zevran!" Leliana shook him. "Their safety is our priority! What if we start a fight and they harm them? We need to be quiet!"

That finally snapped Zevran back, her words cooling his temper like ice. No matter his feelings, her safety must always come first. He nodded, signaling he was good. Leliana released him after a moment.

He winced as her scream rang out for the third time, trembling with the effort to keep calm. Then a laughter rang out right beside them, behind the door to their side. Leliana signaled to Zevran, and they stalked closer, bringing their ears up to listen in.

"…a whore… screa… oughtta shut her… loves that dam.. horse…"

He swore on his Warden that he'd hunt down and kill every last one of them as soon as she was safe. With a shuddering breath, he padded away from the door, exchanging promises with Leliana.

They crept from shadow to shadow, avoiding the drunken patrols and sleeping guards. It was easy enough to follow her periodic screams, echoing loud throughout the Fort. On their way, he and Leliana even found all the gears that'd been stripped off of Alistair and his Warden. Carrying the heavy pack and inching closer to the heart of the Fort, he realized she hadn't screamed for a while now.

Anxious, Zevran bolted the last strip of the corridor, slamming a dagger in a surprised guard's face before he could shout a warning. He threw the last door open, racing into a ruined room full of torture devices he was familiar with.

A small fireball hurtled towards him from the darkness and Zevran leapt, landing in a roll to avoid it. Burnt smell of his singed hair reached him, but nothing mattered as he saw his Warden collapsed on the floor by the wooden horse, bloody and bruised, looking like she'd been dragged through ten hell gates and back. Alistair was also there, locked inside a cell and looking more furious than ever. But he seemed to be in better condition than her so he rushed over to his Warden, gathering her up in his arms.

"Zev! I… I'm so… sorry… ar… are you… alright…?" She croaked, her musical voice hoarse almost beyond recognition. Signs of torture she'd suffered through, of the abuse she'd endured littered her skin, and Zevran knew then none would leave Fort Drakon alive tonight. He would hurt them in ways only a Crow knew how, for all they've done to his precious Warden.

But she was within his arms, alive, shivering, almost to tears and for now, for her, he smiled.

"Ah, my dear Warden, did you miss me?" He chuckled.


	4. Revenge

As Alistair had punched open the lock of his cell, the guards had resorted to chaining the cell closed with a padlock. For Zevran and Leliana, it was as if they'd left the cell wide open. In no time Alistair was fully outfitted with his armor and weapons the two had recovered earlier. His busted hand was bandaged lightly before he shoved it into his gauntlet. After he gripped his sword, Alistair tied more bandages around his fist lest he drop his weapon due to his injury.

But Solona was in no condition to wear her gears. Leliana had rubbed in a salve to her open wounds and bandaged her up as best she could, but still she was far too weakened. Solona attempted to cast weak healing spells on herself but the spells fizzed and evaporated, her will and mind sapped of strength. Zevran gently helped her with her robe and she struggled to her feet while leaning heavily on her staff. Until she could be seen by Wynne, nothing more could be done for her.

Neither Leliana nor Zevran dared question them of what had happened, their bodies telling far more than they wished to know. As Solona gasped and leaned on Zevran, Leliana cleared her throat.

"Should we attempt to sneak past the guards? With her in such a state, she's in no condition for battle." She glanced worriedly at Solona, gasping and panting with the effort of simply standing.

"No. I've a promise to keep," Alistair growled and Leliana flinched.

"Indeed, those who've laid a hand on my Warden have a Crow's punishment in order." Zevran spit, though his hands were gentle on Solona.

"I'll be fine, Leliana. I will not fall in battle," she smiled softly for her, strained with effort. Leliana had to swallow to calm her rage at her dear friend's sight, just barely managing.

"Then Zevran and I will take the brunt of the fighting. If we are to kill every soldier in For Drakon, a frontal assault would spell a death sentence for us. But Zevran and I could surprise many isolated soldiers, win our battles quickly and silently." Leliana gripped her bow, and the others nodded.

"If you can give them slow death, or keep them alive silent, give them to me. I've a business to clear with them." Alistair growled and the two nodded. No doubt Alistair meant every word of whatever he'd promised Solona.

"Then shall we move?" Zevran hissed, but Solona shook her head.

"I will wait here. I'll be a burden when I can barely walk. I'll be safe here and I'll rejoin you once the path is clear."

"But to leave you _here?_ Alone?" Leliana looked around the room, worried. Her wounds, her memories were so fresh. How could they possibly leave her in a torture chamber alone?

"It's alright. I do have one favor to ask though, if you'll indulge me." Solona gasped out.

"Anything for you, my dear Warden." Zevran murmured.

"Benin," she spat.

"Bring me Benin, _alive._ I've a score to settle with him."

* * *

He was sleeping so soundly when his hands were gripped in an iron grasp. His eyes flew open, only to see a hint of a face before his eyes were covered and felt ropes winding abound his wrist. He made to shout, but no voice answered his call. He shook himself and struggled, kicking wildly but a savage blow to his head stunned him instantly. He groaned as he was made to stand and walk, and there was something warm against his neck. Without much struggle he was marched somewhere, till someone kicked his legs and forced him to kneel. Darkness fell away from his eyes and he squinted, tears welling at the sudden brightness.

In his sight, was _she_.

Maker, how regal she looked! How grand she was, how lovely, that condemned Mage! Despite the play he had put her through, she was… dazzling, no, blinding in her beauty. She leaned against a support beam, but her head was held high, shoulders squared, proud and self-assured. As if his touch had not influenced her in the least. He groaned low in his throat. How was she so cruel to him? To deny the passage of time they had shared together! Her denial, her betrayal, he did not deserve, and _yet!_

 _I would brave my vows to the Maker for her heart to be mine!_

"Ah, Benin." She murmured, soft and kind. Softer and kinder than he'd ever heard before in the circle! By the Maker, how he'd yearned for such a voice, to grace his ears by her free will! After he'd heard her voice purring for that whelp Cullen in the darkness of the library, how he'd longed to hear her voice call his name so!

"I've waited for you. Here we are at last, after all these years."

"Ah, Linny!" He cried!

"Linny, Linny, Linny! How long I've waited for your eyes to reflect mine! Here we are at last, indeed! After all these years, you and I are together with no Templar whelp to estrange!"

Pleasure screamed through his veins as he sensed her magic engulfing him in response. Flames licked against his skin and with a strangled cry he tugged at the lyrium in his blood to Cleanse, knowing full well if she was at her full power he'd be nothing but cinders in seconds. He shuddered at such a thought, singed but still breathing, all his clothes burnt away to ashes.

"I've no pleasantries to exchange with you, Benin. We are beyond such things now, aren't we?"

"Ha, long past indeed! We've a deeper understanding of each other than that. Let us dive into the heart of one another, to the inevitable end I've yearned for!"

"You evil bastard aren't diving anywhere," came a growl. Benin gave a shout as a kick landed squarely in his solar plexus. He fell to his side, eyes watering and gasping in pain.

"I'm afraid that though I've a mind to end things quickly, my companions have a business to tend to with you," came her voice. He had no breath to answer her.

Through slit eyes he saw that whoreson heft a dagger and draw closer.

"Ah, Alistair, might I suggest that you use this knife instead? Just a suggestion," said a voice. The brown knife-ear whom the voice belonged to handed the man a serrated blade, which the whoreson accepted.

"What is this, Linny? Have you a mind to try your hand at torture?" He croaked.

"You know me, Benin. How I thirst for knowledge. And with such extensive instruction you've given me, why, don't you think it is high time I surpassed my tutor?" She laughed at him, his Linny.

Whoreson knelt on one knee and grabbed his member while hefting the blade in another. His eyes glowed in madness, as if a mirror had been placed in front of his face.

"And so you do her bidding, whoreson?" He spat.

"On the contrary, _I_ made a promise to _her_. And I don't think I've ever been happier to keep my word." He shrugged.

Then, the serrated blade sawed into his flesh.

Benin shrieked and writhed, but two pairs of hands forced him into the stone chamber floor while the whoreson set to work. He gyrated his hips, garbled words mulching into syllabled screams of agony. His eyes fixed on her leaning her head casually into her hand, as if she was watching a bird tugging on a budworm.

There was no way guards on duty did not hear his pain, no way a patrol did not catch his scream! There were only four of them! In any second now, his men would burst through his door! Only moments longer before his tormentors lay with their lifeblood running in gutters!

"Li–nny!" He roared at her, but she only smiled. A smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Your guards have already died. Be thankful that you've been permitted to sound, for they have endured and passed in silence. Scream for the world to hear, but no help will come for you."

Black smudges creeped in the edges of his vision but a redheaded bitch slapped his face, pain chasing the darkness away. He gasped and wheezed as blood poured from his wound.

"How dare you!" He spat.

"How dare I?" She suddenly stood and strode over, her eyes blazing hate.

"How _dare_ , I? Why, Benin? Because I'm a Mage? Or because I'm a woman? Answer me! How long have you tormented me? For how many years did you abuse me in the Circle? And here, when you had your chance, you tortured me! You raped me under the pretense of investigation! And you ask, _how dare I?"_

"You're my Linny!"

"No!" She screamed with her magic, the force slamming him back against something and knocking the breath out of him. Hands grabbed him and Benin was hoisted up, and roughly dropped onto the… the Meferath's Cradle. He twisted but she was there, one hand on his throat with a remarkable strength for a Mage.

"I was never yours! Not ever! I won't be anyone's possession!" She screamed, power coursing through her veins. Benin shrieked, his own lyrium in his vein boiling in response to her command. Her magic forced him down, skewering him onto the Meferath's Cradle.

"I am righteous! All Mages must be-"

"I am more than a Mage!" Her force magic increased tenfold, and Benin could no longer scream. His every fiber was alight in agony, his eyes dark with pain and no reassuring oblivion came. The wooden screws of the Meferath's Cradle creaked.

"My Linny," Benin whispered.

"May the Fist of the Maker judge you harshly," she spoke, engulfed in magic.

 _Then his world split in two._

* * *

Solona stared at the remains of Benin, ripped in half by the Cradle. Alistair kicked at one side then grunted in disgust before turning to her.

"Are you alright, Sol?"

"Yes… I'm fine." She shook her head.

"My dear Warden, you seem… shaken."

"It's nothing. It's just… Benin's been a bastard to Mages and to me for so long… I feel like I've just shaken off the last of the Circle's chains that had me shackled. This… this sense of freedom, is so… alien." She shrugged.

"Sol…"

"I'm aware Benin's not the first nor the last Templar to think such thoughts, and as long as there's magic in my blood, there will always be more Benins. But, I think… I think I am finally, no longer bound to the Circle. I have a free will, not coercion forced upon my young mind."

"But we must not dally here longer. We should escape before anyone notices the Fort has been annihilated." Leliana leaned her onto her shoulder for support, and Solona nodded.

"You're right. I've had enough of this place." She shook her head and took a step before taking one last look over her shoulder.

"How fitting that the spell that stole your life is named the Fist of the Maker," she whispered to herself.


End file.
